


Moth to the Flame.  1-5/5.

by punky_96



Series: Follies Fics 2018 [3]
Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: AU Drabbles, F/F, John Wick Ch. 2 elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-08 17:52:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15248706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punky_96/pseuds/punky_96
Summary: New fic.AU:  Miranda as a John Wick sort of character seeking revenge/retribution against Irving and seducing his niece, Andrea, along the way.  Because, like John Wick, Miranda is a woman of SHEER FUCKING WILL.Bingo Prompts:  sunglasses, cerulean, fur coat, eye sex, post it note





	Moth to the Flame.  1-5/5.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: I have to double check, but I'm pretty sure that both Peetsden and Pdt_bear took a look at these :) Then I tabled new fic until all the transfers were done and lost my mind a little bit.
> 
> Edit 8/8/18: Pdt had made changes and I finally came back to check what I had done and fixed a couple of things. :)
> 
> Author’s Notes: I combined lines from John Wick Chapter 2 with the bingo word prompts and wrote a John Wick style Miranda and then whatever story came from there. Yeah. I know. I’ve always gotta do something different or weird with it. Lol.

**_Sunglasses. (669 words)_**  
   
Miranda crossed the lobby, forcing her body to push past the pain and carry her to the desk.  “Is the manager in?”  She glanced at the familiar face over her sunglasses.  She grabbed hold of her trouser leg in order to not clutch at her barely patched-up side.  
   
“The manager is always in.”  The handsome fellow’s voice was clear and gentle.  There was no trace of judgement.  “It is good to see you, Ms. Priestly.”  He extended his arm to direct her.  “He is on the patio.”  
   
As usual at the Continental Hotel, Miranda crossed the ground floor without obvious eyes on her, or any other kind of acknowledgement.  They were all in similar lines of work, so there was little to guess upon.  No blood would be shed on the Continental grounds.  They were all at least a few levels of safe here.   
   
Miranda could tell that she would need to check the bandage on her side as soon as she was able, but she could not feel any broken bones or sense any blurring to her vision.  She supposed those were good indicators for someone on this side of the law.  
   
She sighed as she stepped out onto the back patio of the hotel and into the bright sunshine once more.  The humid heat felt good to her battered body, but she wished she had a second pair of sunglasses to don against the brightness.  
   
“Miranda.”  The manager stood to greet her with both hands in strange hand clasp that only he could get away with.  She wondered if her face had not taken a beating if he would have given her the usual kisses on the cheek.  Instead, he held her steady for long seconds as he contemplated her.  Then he released her.  
   
“Winston.”  She purred his name slowly as she considered her options.  When he indicated the chair opposite him, she settled into it.  
   
The silence was cloying in the humidity of the day and Miranda wondered, not for the first time, why Winston never sat in the shade.  She supposed that he liked to see others sweat and he had long ago developed an ability not to—rather like an ancient vampire who did not need blood or could walk in the sun.   
   
“There are two rules.”  Winston held up a hand with two fingers in case she had developed some kind of mental deficiency, since he had seen her last.  She narrowed her eyes at him from behind her sunglass, though she kept the rest of herself resolutely still.  “Markers must be honored and—”  
   
She cut him off demonstrating she had not lost the plot so far nor had she forgotten the basics.  “No blood on company grounds.”  
   
Winston nodded at her and even though he couldn’t see her eyes, he stared into them with unerring expectation.  It had the same effect regardless of the UV protection.  She was pinned back into her reality, despite her anger.  He held the moment there knowing she would speak up before he would.  His was always the long game, the waiting game.  
   
“He set me up to fail.”  She ground out between her teeth.  
   
Stifling an almost giggle at her petulance, Winston sat back in his chair and crossed a leg over the other.  “Nevertheless, no blood—”  
   
Again, she cut him off, “On company grounds.  I know.  I know.”  Miranda stood smoothing her clothes out in preparation for leaving.  She really needed a hot shower and a glass of single-malt whisky.  
   
“His niece is graduating in two months.”  Winston observed off handedly.  
   
Miranda held her hand up with two fingers extended.  “Two rules.”  She acknowledged and then shifted so that it was almost a salute.  “Winston.”  She nodded at him, making steady eye contact despite the sunglasses.  
   
“Just two.”  He said in a low grumbly purr of amusement.  “Miranda.”  He nodded back at her and watched as she walked away.  If she was slower on her departure than arrival, he made no note of it.  
   
   
**_Cerulean. (351 words)_**  
   
Miranda blinked her eyes and then scrunched her face as she willed herself to full alertness.  Her arm still rested over the side of a younger woman with her palm curved around the soft globe of a breast.  Breathing deeply, Miranda reveled in the smell of sex, the woman’s shampoo, and the ocean breeze.  For the moment, she focused only on the positive details—both of them were naked and pressed together with Miranda’s leg between the other woman’s and her hand possessively on her breast.  The light blanket provided just enough coverage combined with their body heat to be warm, while the scrunched shape of it and the cool breeze allowed made Miranda want to snuggle against this woman tighter.  
   
After reveling in the sensory feast, Miranda sighed and leaned forward to place a kiss on the bare shoulder in front of her.  The brunette had worn a cerulean gown to the fancy dinner dance.  She had thoroughly captured Miranda’s attention, making her mission easier by far.  Getting close to the cerulean covered beauty, Miranda had brought out all of her charms.  Shifting in the bed caused the brunette to roll over facing Miranda.  Still asleep, the brunette reached for Miranda’s breast, slid her leg between Miranda’s, and moved her face closer for a kiss.  The thought of her lover seeking her even in sleep was intoxicating to Miranda.  
   
And, just as any other intoxicant—this one could inspire addiction, madness, and even hasten her death.  
   
Instead of befriending or perhaps becoming a colleague, Miranda had seduced the beautiful brunette in the cerulean gown.  Andrea Sachs, the niece of Irving Ravitz, the young woman set to graduate from Pepperdine in one month.  
   
She was meant to be a means to an end—the end of Irving Ravitz.  He would leave company grounds for her graduation.  
   
However, it was possible that the cerulean clad beauty would instead lead to the end of Miranda Priestly.  
   
“What have you done?”  Miranda asked herself against the brunette’s lips, before giving in to the sleepy demand for more.  
   
   
   
   
**_Fur Coat. (945 words)_**  
   
Her mind racing, Andrea parked and grabbed her bag and the ridiculous fur coat from her uncle and marched to her front door.  She knew Miranda would follow her at a slower pace with the other gifts, but she couldn’t decide if she found comfort in that or not.  The celebration dinner the week before graduation should have been full of friend and familial love and a chance to show off her new girlfriend, Miranda Priestly.  Instead, it became an unspoken battle between her lover and her uncle that no one was able to ignore.  Thankfully, they had almost finished the meal when Uncle Irving had arrived, there was less time to suffer through.  The fur coat from her uncle was another not so subtle hint of how she owed him and would be beholden to returning to New York to work for him.  A fur coat in California was just ridiculous.  
   
Inside the small house, Andrea threw what she was carrying at the coffee table and turned her attention on her silent lover, needing information.  Andrea pelted Miranda with a stream of questions.  “How was he?  How does he know you?  Did he send you here?”  The betrayal in brown eyes cut Miranda like a knife to the heart.  
   
The last question gave her pause though and she knew to ask about it, before acknowledging the others.  She was not supposed to run into him until it was time.  The dinner had been on company grounds and so manners had carried them, but it had been obvious to everyone that Uncle Irving knew Andrea’s tall female companion—and did not think much of her.  
   
“What do you mean, did he send me?”  Miranda answered with a question.  
   
 “He has always controlled me.  My studies have been so that he can bring me into the ‘family business’.”  Andrea’s disdain was apparent in her tone, though she would not let Miranda approach her now that they were back at her bungalow.  “I assume he sent you to control me, not bed me.  He must be furious with you.”  
   
Crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back against the wall, Miranda watched Andrea pace.  This was one of those make or break moments.  Do you reveal or remain in the shadows?  
   
“Andrea.  Your uncle did not send me, though you are right that he is furious with me.  The feeling is mutual.”  Miranda was not prone to long explanations and so she paused to choose her words.  “Do you know what the family business is, Andrea?  What type of law were you going to pursue?”  
   
The younger woman stopped her pacing and focused all of her attention on Miranda’s intense blue eyes.  She had the look of an animal sizing up another of its kind and determining whether it could take it in a fight or whether it should flee to fight another day.   
   
Miranda enjoyed the fire hidden in Andrea’s depths.  “Andrea, I am an assassin.  In some circles, I am The Assassin.  Your uncle knows me in that capacity.  I wonder what capacity you know him in?”  
   
Andrea’s eyes went wide before she murmured, “You are The Assassin.  The emissary of death.”  
   
Stepping away from the wall, Miranda clasped one of Andrea’s hands in her own.  “Sit with me.”  She gestured toward Andrea’s couch.  Once they were settled, Miranda began again.  “You have heard of me, so I understand that you know the family business you are being groomed for.”  She stared into Andrea’s eyes knowing that they were getting into dangerous territory.  “You asked if he sent me and you said that he controls you.  Do you wish to be rid of that connection, Andrea?”  
   
Andrea’s heart stuttered as she stared back into her lover’s blue eyes.  The possible meanings, connections and actionable consequences spun out of control.  “He had my parents killed.  I have not been able to escape his control.”  Her eyes scanned over Miranda’s face full of feverish hope.  “If you are here for him, then you have my full support.”  
   
Miranda pulled Andrea into her lap.  “You will be free of him.”  
   
When her lover said nothing more, Andrea bit her lip.  Somehow, she knew this was the beginning of her new life and the end of this love affair.  “The less I know, hmmm.”  When Miranda simply nodded, Andrea chose to live in the moment, until it was over.  She leaned down until their lips connected in a kiss that flared their desire as it had each time since the first moment she’d laid eyes on the older woman.  
   
As clothes were shed, their positions shifted until they were face to face on the couch breathless and desperate to push each other into ecstasy.  At the edge of that peak, one or both of them thrashed a bit wildly, sending them over the edge and onto the fur coat covered floor.  
   
“My elbow.”  Andrea laughed as she pulled away from her lover.  
   
“No distractions now, Andrea.”  Miranda purred as she resumed her attentions on the younger woman’s body.  “Pretend we are on a bear skin rug in front of the fire.  It’s very romantic.”  
   
Snorting as she laughed so hard, then Andrea tugged Miranda back by her hair so she could see her eyes.  She tried to hold in her own amusement, but could not.  “This coat is ridiculous.”  She shook her head.  “Think we can get back to our moment?”  She bit her lip hopefully.  
   
“Open the slider to let in the ocean breeze and we can do whatever you want, love.”  Miranda purred at her younger lover.  
   
   
   
   
   
   
**_Eye Sex. (326 words)_**  
   
“How do you do that?”  Andrea murmured as she closed the distance between them.   
   
Holding Andrea’s gaze, with her lips closed in an almost pout, Miranda waited until the younger woman was within reach to respond.  “What are you referring to?”  She asked as she rested her palms on Andrea’s hips and ran her eyes over her body as if stripping her clothes away.  
   
Stepping back with a grin, Andrea breathed deep and tried to compose herself.  “No matter where we are or what we are doing, you catch people’s eyes and draw them in like moths to a flame.”  Andrea tried her best to stare confidently at Miranda and then tilt her head in a ‘come on’ sort of maneuver.  
   
“Andrea, you are the only one I wish to draw in.”  Miranda responded seriously.  
   
Reaching forward, Andrea pulled Miranda to her by her belt.  “Somehow, it’s not about the jealousy.  I know you are coming home with me.”  Andrea kissed Miranda in a way that made her wish for teleportation.  “You just can’t help yourself with the eye sex.  You like upping the ante with others and you find it amusing when they see you walk away with me.”  
   
“Teasing, submission, power, control, sexual tension, a little hotness under the collar, the push and pull of confidence.  I’m not the only one who can lure them in with their eyes, you know.”  Miranda had kissed Andrea’s jaw, her neck, over her fluttering pulse point, and even tongued her way back up to capture those full pouty lips.  “I wasn’t supposed to seduce you, just get close to you.”  She pulled away to make eye contact once again.  “That cerulean dress hugging your curves was tempting, but those beautiful brown eyes shining with hints of whisky and gold.  I became the moth to your flame.”  
   
Ready to move on from eye sex, Andrea tugged the front of Miranda’s belt again.  “Let’s go home.”  
   
   
   
   
**_Post It Note. (395)_** ** _(AS returning home after the funeral.) (Don’t whine at me, you know MP’s coming back.)_**  
   
Andrea slipped into her bungalow and tucked her suitcase against the wall by the door.  Her place was quiet and while she knew it would be—that didn’t make it any less heart breaking.  She made her way through the house noting the absence of objects that had taken up residence in her home and her heart over the last couple of months.   
   
An empty coat hanger between two of her jackets.   
No toothbrush next to hers in the bathroom.   
No shoes in front of the shelf instead of on it.  
   
Trailing her fingers over the cerulean dress that had started it all, Andrea bit her lip and breathed deeply hoping to hold back the tears.  She had graduated law school.  Her uncle had passed away in a manner ruled to be an accident.  She was free.  Only the bar review and exam loomed before her.  
   
She felt hallow as she lost her heart in the end.  She couldn’t help but wonder, if Miranda felt the same.  She had left this world once for love.  Andrea didn’t know if she could or would let herself do it again.  Then again, she was Miranda’s weakness.  Her eyes had lured the other woman to her like a moth.  
   
Only Andrea wondered why she felt like her heart was the one roasting in her flames.  
   
On her bedside a photograph was face down.  Andrea slipped the photo off the edge and flipped it over.  She gasped as she took in the image of herself and Miranda back lit by the sun, you could not make out their faces unless you knew the photo.  They had gone up the coast from Pepperdine and found a hard to get to beach on a weekday where they could have the little cove to themselves.  The happiness in that moment would stay with Andrea always.  She had been so surprised when Miranda had pulled her close and pulled up her phone for a selfie.  It warmed her heart that even though it was still disguised, it was them.  
   
Underneath the photo was a small yellow post it with two words written on it.  “Goodbye, love.”  
   
Andrea hugged the photo to her chest unmindful of creasing it and let the tears fall.  She huffed a small indignation and asked herself, “What did you expect?”  
   
   
   
   
**_Fin._**  
   
x  
   
 

 


End file.
